


A Punishable Offense

by Dreadful Weather Today (TearoomSaloon)



Series: Bedroom Hymns [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Master/Pet, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Punishment, Rope Bondage, Smut, Wow, light tit torture, much bondage, so ropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 14:42:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1782703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TearoomSaloon/pseuds/Dreadful%20Weather%20Today
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal Lecter wouldn't stand for vulgarity. Alana Bloom had a filthy mouth. Needless to say, she was frequently punished for her misbehavior. Usually in the form of denial and strict obedience...Okay, she wasn't too good at that last part, which only led to more punishment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Punishable Offense

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for the lovely l-ange-en-rouge because some people were putting down the ship
> 
> so I retaliated with a kinky smutfest

Being rude in the presence of Hannibal Lecter was a punishable offense. There was, of course, a sliding scale of  _how rude_  a specific statement was or wasn't and if he'd allow it to slide off his radar.

She'd used the word fuck. She'd used the word fuck in reference to sex and he...he  _detested_  that word for the act.

He had no patience for vulgar language and dirty mouthes.

"You aren't to speak until I say, and you are to do exactly as told, understand."

"Yes."

"Yes  _what?_ "

"Yes, Master."

"Safety word?"

"Charcoal."

"Good pet. Let us begin."

She was stripped bare in the dining room. He stood her up, removed her clothes in a vicious, quick fashion, and secured her wrists behind her head with his tie. Dirty words were punished with dirty measures, and she was laid out on the table.

He pushed her knees up and apart, biting the insides of her thighs until thick red rings puckered and blossomed under his lips. He liked this part best, branding her. He liked to claim things as his, and this whole play of theirs was just an example. He had control.

Alana watched as he worked, his fingers deep inside of her. He kept brushing against her g-spot, her clit, never giving enough attention to push her over. When she was close, she moaned his name, and he pulled back, leaving her unable to come.

"No speaking, remember?"

Fuck.

He threw her over his shoulder like a rag doll, holding her so she had zero stimulation.

"It  _hurts,"_  she whined, biting at her wrists.

"Keep talking, pet, and I'll make sure it hurts for the rest of the night."

He didn't break his word.

She was bound and pushed onto the bed. Her arms were tied behind her head, a black rope webbed around her breasts in long diamond knots, beading around her stomach and hips, ending in a pearl directly under her clit. He toyed with the last rope, having made it loose enough to slide up and down her labia, causing increasingly distressed noises.

"You're like a beautiful sculpture when tied up like this," he murmured before sucking painfully on a nipple. "Shame you can't speak; I'd love to hear your voice." Second hand on her other breast, he squeezed until her breath hitched, hips bucking into his touch.

"You may speak one sentence."

" _Harder, master_."

The grin on his face was ferocious. He moved to straddle her hips, both hands on her breasts. She could feel his erection on her belly through the silk of his underwear, wet and warm and hard. The hot pain of his teeth cut into her neck and a heat began to coil at the base of her spine.

"Sing to me," he commanded, rolling his hips into hers. She groaned in response, her back arching, trying to press the knot on her clit further into the sensitive area. He built up a rhythm, both in hands and lower body, teaching her where in his music she was to gasp and moan and mewl. Teaching her when to stop and start. She was nearly there. Her senses were budding into white noise and the sharpest pleasure was cutting into her skin, Just one more touch, one more second of pressure—

And he moved off her.

He rolled off the bed and to his feet, stretching his legs and yawning.

" _P_ _lease_ ," she whined, trying to twist her hips deeper into the bondage, to create some sort of stimulation. _  
_

"No, I think that's enough for now." He licked a soiled finger. "Fair punishment for fair crime."

" _Hannibal._ " It came out choked and needy, a near-sob of necessity. She'd break, she'd crumble, she  _needed a climax_.

He sighed. "You're lucky I'm a good master, pet."

With a few sharp kisses and a long swirl of his tongue, she came, muscles in her back spasming as the pent-up need was flushed from her system. Alana fell dazed onto the sheets with a stupid grin on her face.

"The things I do for love," he muttered as he untied the ropes, gently massaging any irritated areas. "Do you need anything, dove?"

"Go take care of yourself."

"And after that?"

"A warm bath would be nice."

He kissed her forehead. "I'll carry you in," he said before disappearing into the bathroom.

She sat up, assessing the damages to her chest (she'd be in high-collared dresses for a week) before settling back into the pillows, happy and sated. She needed to misbehave more often.


End file.
